


Romance for Horn & Piano

by VSSAKJ



Category: Baten Kaitos
Genre: Alternate Universe - Orchestra, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-12 06:46:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4469345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VSSAKJ/pseuds/VSSAKJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glimpses into one redheaded horn player's journey to confidence and soloing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Romance for Horn & Piano

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChaoticBlades](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticBlades/gifts).



> I am a big music nerd and Baten Kaitos is a game given to a few musical themes. Hopefully this satisfies your AU itch!

Maestro Ilbert drummed his fingers gently on the three-page application, comparing its content with the at-attention redhead seated before him. He began the interview with a smile, “I do believe you’re the quietest brass player I’ve ever met, Lyude.”

“I’m sorry.” Lyude smiled his apology, running a quick hand through his hair as he shifted in his seat. He maintained his ramrod posture. “I’m the youngest of three, and a half-sibling. I’m not very outgoing.”

“In my experience, people with personalities like yours are usually drawn to woodwinds, like the saxophone or the clarinet. I myself have been known to tweedle out a concerto or two on my oboe. It isn’t unheard of for a talented musician to adopt a further instrument, or master in one quite different to what they initially chose for performance. Are you certain you’re happiest as a horn player?” Despite the slant of his words, Maestro Ilbert smiled throughout, coming off more like a kindly grandfather than a professional orchestra conductor.

Lyude felt his cheeks redden, and he gripped his knees. “Yes, absolutely. I’ve practiced very hard. Please, maestro, just give me a chance to play for you.”

“But of course young man. I would never turn you away without hearing you. Please, begin when you’re ready.”

 

The phone rang four times before someone answered it; Lyude, breathless with excitement, waited only until his brother’s voice crackled from his mobile before announcing, “I’ve made it into the Oceans Philharmonic Orchestra!”

“And you’ve called to advise me why?” Skeed sneered, his voice dripping with distaste.

Lyude faltered. “I thought… I thought it might…”

“Make me proud? That group accepts anyone, especially with that mad old conductor they have now. It’s hardly worthy of being called an orchestra. You’ve only had to apply there because the Alfard Symphonic is too much for you. Did you know? Vallye’s made first cor anglais this year.”

Deflated, Lyude breathed the words without thought, “Please, give her my congratulations.”

“Perhaps you should contact us again when you have something to be proud of.”

Lyude dropped the call and sank his face into his hands, wondering why he’d bothered.

 

“You never had anything to worry about, you know.” Ladekahn smiled across the table, his fingers resting gently atop Lyude's hand.

“I'd never have been accepted without your recommendation. I don't know how I'll ever make it up to you.” Lyude huddled in his chair, his gaze wandering miserably. Despite how well the introductions and practice had gone, he worried too much about what Skeed had said.

“Maestro Ilbert would never accept anyone if they didn't play well, Lyude.” Ladekahn shook his head gently and squeezed Lyude's fingers, prompting the redhead to look towards him. “I know your family doesn't think anything of you. But I do, and I know you'll excel here. Don't let them haunt you.”

Lyude made a tiny noise of protest and then forced out a wry smile, plainly dishonest, “Thank you, Ladekahn. You're a better friend than I deserve.”

“I've told you not to say things like that.” Ladekahn sighed, folding his hands together and looking away.

“I'm sorry.”

 

“Maestro Ilbert, I would be very grateful if you would consider my request.” Some six months into his work with Oceans, Lyude had still only spoken to their conductor twice. He shifted in his chair, back as straight as could be, and dug his fingers into his knees, worried, hoping.

Maestro Ilbert thoughtfully rested his chin upon his fist. “If I'd known...”

Lyude went bright red, startled to his feet and bowed deeply. “I'm sorry! I had no intention of deceiving you and—”

“No no, you misunderstand me. Relax, my poor boy, you've no need to be so formal.” Maestro Ilbert smiled, patting Lyude gently on the shoulder until he shakily returned to his seat. “I hadn't realised you wanted more recognition. Of course we can perform a piece for horn and piano. That's a fine idea. We can organise a few other pairings as well so the evening is full. Would that be acceptable to you?”

Lyude bit his tongue on disputing the matter of recognition, and dipped his head in gratitude. “Of course, yes, of course, thank you maestro.”

Ilbert cocked his head gently to one side, querying, “What did you mean about deceiving me, though, Lyude?”

Lyude felt his face warm again; he'd never put it aloud to anyone before. He wasn't brave enough, having spent too many years imagining what Vallye and Skeed would say if they found out. Quietly, he replied, “Ladekahn recommended me to you because I'm a friend of his. A very good friend. And... I would be terribly ashamed if I never met him on stage as his equal. I owe him a great deal.”

“Ahh, I see.” Maestro Ilbert smiled readily, waving a gentle dismissive hand. “I would never hold such a thing against a talented musician. Please concern yourself no further, and off you go.”

Lyude wondered if Ilbert meant Ladekahn, himself, or perhaps them both.

 

“Ladies, gentlemen, and everyone who has chosen to attend our performance this evening, thank you for joining us. I consider myself blessed to have found such a lovely little orchestra to conduct, filled with more talented individuals than I could have imagined. Tonight, we honour that talent by way of duets, trios, quartets, and small group ensembles meant to highlight those who may not usually bear the spotlight. As we all know, an orchestra is graced and known by its first chairs, but without the second, third, and fourth, we would have very thin music indeed. Please, enjoy the performance.”

“He's wonderful.” Lyude murmured backstage, squeezing Ladekahn's hand tightly within his own.

“Are you nervous?” Ladekahn asked in return.

“Yes, of course. What would—”

“Don't even think it, Lyude.” Ladekahn turned and cupped Lyude's cheek with one hand, shaking his head gently and placing a soft kiss on Lyude's lips, “Listen to Maestro Ibert instead. We are all talented individuals, all with merit, all making this group what it is. Anyone, _anyone_ who would discard that is not worth your concern.”

“You're too kind to me.” Lyude closed his eyes, knowing the expression he'd prompted on Ladekahn's face would be a disappointed one. He refused to loosen his grip on Ladekahn's hand as they listened to the other performers: the teal-haired first cello player sing-songing a deep, timbrous melody back and forth with his spunky brown-haired partner; the adventurous, brassy march trumpeted forward by the rude blue-haired man Lyude found himself a bit nervous of; the warm, soulful piece between the orchestra's young flute savant and the cheerful blonde first violin who'd been so patient with him on his first day.

When Maestro Ilbert took the stage again to thank the audience for their attention and announce the evening's intermission, Lyude felt his heart begin to race and squeezed Ladekahn's hand ever tighter.

“We're on next.” Ladekahn agreed, dropping an encouraging peck on Lyude's cheek and easing his hand out of Lyude's grip, “You'd best go warm up.”

“Ladekahn...” Lyude let Ladekahn's hand fall from his, wanting to say more things than he could count. Eventually, he looked away from the patience in Ladekahn's gaze and murmured, “I'm sorry.”

Ladekahn sighed as he walked away.

 

Lyude sweltered under the heat of the spotlight. His horn rested in his hands, a comforting totem and a means of expression he sometimes wished could speak for him. He adjusted the angle of his chair to catch Ladekahn's eye, the white-haired man stretching his fingers over the piano's waiting keys, and checked the page of his music to ensure they were ready to start.

Maestro Ilbert was speaking somewhere nearby, but the words were muffled by the uproarous noise in Lyude's ears. He could hear how their performance was meant to sound, but he could also hear himself breaking on the most important swell; he knew the motions, but could still see his fingers seizing up and destroying the piece. He could imagine... he breathed in with gentle surprise as he realised something liberating. He could imagine Skeed sneering and Vallye huffing dismay, and even Camilla laughing scornfully at his failure, but he could not put any of those expressions on Ladekahn's face. In the shadows of his wilted self-confidence, he could see only Ladekahn's patient smile and warm eyes, the hours they'd both spent practicing in one another's presence, the ease and comfort of each other's company.

“Are you ready, Lyude?” Ladekahn's lips moved with the words, and he gave a brilliant smile as he affirmed with a nod.

Soft notes from the piano filled the hall. Lyude closed his eyes, visualising Ladekahn's fingers on the keys and listening for the moment when—and he raised his horn to his lips, joining on one note held suspended before easing slowly upwards. The music rose in a hushed murmur, swirling together at a stately pace and in perfect harmony until Ladekahn's notes softly plinked away and Lyude's soulful horn swelled into the rafters. He'd thought he might be nervous at this point, but he was instead filled with profound elation, an excitement and a pride he'd never known before. They quickened their pace together, dancing through the next section, then slowed tremendously, then returned at leisure to the matched pace, maestoso and sostenuto, until several small rushes led them into the silence of the piece's conclusion. Lyude exhaled a soft puff of breath into the silence before the audience's roar of applause rushed up to meet them.

Lyude lowered his horn and glanced at Ladekahn standing next to the piano; he grinned and blushed warmly when he met Ladekahn's eyes, who was clapping along with the rest of the audience. Lyude felt his heart swell with emotion, and he longed to speak privately with Ladekahn... but perhaps, he thought, he could do something better. As Maestro Ilbert resumed the stage, Lyude folded his horn under one arm, rose smoothly to his feet and walked to meet him at the podium. Lyude leaned in to whisper at Ilbert's ear; Maestro Ilbert listened, then smiled in return and bowed to Lyude, stepping neatly away and folding his arms behind him.

Lyude straightened, took a step towards the edge of the stage, and spoke, voice high, but without a waver, “You are a kind audience. I am grateful for your ear, for your applause, and most grateful of all for my talented partner Ladekahn.” With a smile on his face, he turned to one side and indicated Ladekahn with an outswept arm. Upon meeting Ladekahn's eye, he mouthed the words, _'I love you. Thank you.'_

Ladekahn sighed deeply, but with relief.

**Author's Note:**

> Musical reference: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K9Z88EKlNi4


End file.
